


To Become A God

by Billywick



Category: Dota 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Billywick/pseuds/Billywick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>yes guess what there's more Riki/Bloodseeker because god damn, no one else is going to write for this. Riki witnesses a little of Strygwyr's culture, with some very special after-effects. almost PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Become A God

**Author's Note:**

> yeah I fucked up Stryg's name in the last fic v.v won't happen again.

"Rikimaru, this is a terrible idea."

"Gondar, why are you here then? No one asked you to come."

The disapproval in the Bounty Hunter's silence was thick in the air, but the satyr whom it was directed at didn't let it unsettle him, or even halt his steps. 

The pyramid, a temple of sorts, towered over the rich foliage of the jungle ahead, the thundering noise of drums deafened the ears to all other sound.

Riki and the unwilling Gondar had followed Strygwyr for two days and tracked the Bloodseeker here to this hidden village and its heart, a stone pyramid dedicated to their vicious deities. 

Well, Riki had decided to go and Gondar was unwilling to let his best enemy go into such a precarious situation alone. 

"We can see plenty from this hill, Riki."

"Maybe you with your cat eyes can, but I want a closer look. Besides, I'm not here just to watch."

Alarm rose into Gondar's expression.

"What are you planning?"

The satyr, smaller in stature than the cat-like killer yet twice as devious, only grinned at him and continued sneaking closer to the pyramid and the assembled crowd at its socket.

Riki could see Strygwyr now. The almost beastly, yet fascinating creature was sitting patiently as the crowd sang and bowed before him.

The insatiably curious assassin snuck close enough to pick out the Seeker's motionless features. Gondar was somewhere behind him, but Riki paid him no mind.

There was a priest in front of Strygwyr now, decorated with a fearsome mask and burdened by ornate robes. He bore a heavy, golden bowl, which he set down in front of the Seeker.  
A young man, barely out of childhood, stepped forward and bowed his head over the bowl.

Riki watched with rapt attention as the priest, chanting, drew an obsidian dagger across the youth's throat. It was a sacrifice.

Crimson gushed out of the body into the bowl, but even after ten minutes, it was not full.

Three women stepped out of the crowd now. One, an elderly crone, silvery hair woven into a complicated braid. The next woman was round and heavy with child. The third was a girl, younger even than the young man sacrificed minutes before.

All three of them bowed to Strygwyr before kneeling to the hound of their gods.  
Stryg rose with slow elegance, raising his jagged blades.

Riki knew what would happen next. The bowl overflowed as three more lives were taken in honour of those thirsty Twins.

Riki never cared for gods. But the way Strygwyr bathed in the large bowl, in the blood, that he did care for. What incredible satisfaction on the Bloodseeker's face! The assassin himself was under the bloody spell of the ceremony.

He must have watched for hours, but he took no notice. He saw Strygwyr bathe in blood, eat a human heart and decapitate two more willing sacrifices. 

All of the crimson life essence disappeared from Strygwyr in a glorious flare. The Twins were pleased. Their Seeker looked dazed and was guided carefully into a smaller structure tucked to the side of the temple.

Riki chuckled dryly. Strygwyr even had a doghouse. 

"Can we leave now? I've seen more than I've ever wanted to tonight."

Gondar looked restless, as if he feared discovery at any moment. Perhaps the bloodthirsty rituals had made him nervous. They had quite the opposite effect on Riki. He knew he wouldn't leave the temple tonight. Oh no, he would not miss this opportunity.

"Gondar, you should go now."

"What, why?"

"I'm going in."

"Riki!"

But it was too late. The master of stealth already slipped away, out of the jungle and towards the small building tucked into the pyramid's side. The Twins be damned tonight.

*

Strygwyr sprawled on a wide, luxurious bed. It was an unfamiliar comfort he seldom got to enjoy. The Twins granted him this night of freedom once every year and he appreciated it fully. And although it usually included a tribute of flesh, tonight he had declined those women and men given to him. Why, he still could not answer. All that came to his mind was a devious grin and glinting, turquoise eyes. Rikimaru. That assassin, that satyr who kept calling him with a trail of blood. Riki, who looked at him and touched him and spoke of things Stryg wasn't sure could be real.  
Riki, whom he wanted. To touch, to see, to hold down, to claim and own as if he was a free man. Strygwyr seldom got the chance to think so freely. The Twins did not approve of Rikimaru or Stryg's curious fascination with the assassin. They feared Riki and their hound did not understand why.

"Quite a show."

Riki's soft voice slithered through the room and Stryg's eyes widened in hasty search. Once again, he wished the Twins had blessed him with True Sight at all times. But he didn't need their blessing tonight, because Rikimaru was benevolent.

He appeared, right above the Seeker, hooved feet on either side of Strygwyr as the satyr grinned down at him, tail twitching.

"I enjoyed it. And you certainly did."

The grin widened as Strygwyr gave a growl.

"No, no, I know you can speak. Use your tongue, Strygwyr."

He remembered his name. Stryg could barely recall when he had given it to Riki, much less when he allowed the assassin to purr it in such a manner. Insolent little backstabber.

"You are not permitted here. It is sacred ground. Only the divine and their faithful may wander here."

Riki's tail twitched and waved, drawing and holding Stryg's gaze as his ears filled with the satyr's chuckling. The Seeker flattened his dog-like ears to his head and gave another, more vicious growl to quell the audacity of someone laughing at his Twins.

"You know, I never cared much for religion. I come from a race of philosophers and killers. Gods could never put a leash on us. But that is why they choose hounds like you, my dear Strygwyr."

He'd heard enough. Someone needed to teach this assassin some respect. And possibly fuck him to death. Strygwyr volunteered himself for both tasks, the latter of which had haunted his dreams for weeks now.

He lunged before Rikimaru finished laughing. Stryg seized the surprised satyr by the horns, toppling both of them backwards, Riki now flattened beneath the weight of his body.

Yet Riki didn't seem as overwhelmed as he ought to be, because that damn grin was still there. His face was now close enough for Stryg to see the excitement in Riki's eyes, close enough to hear the blood pulse through the satyr in a rush.

Strygwyr could feel it too. He knew the Twins usually blinded him to the deep, urgent attraction he felt for Riki, but not tonight. Nothing would keep him from this maddening, wondrous creature. He'd do everything he ever wanted to Riki. And no one would stop him. Least of all Riki himself, between whose legs Stryg currently resided. Through the terse leather of his trousers, the Seeker could feel the assassin's arousal. 

Maybe he had not been alone in his dreams. Maybe Riki had been wanting him, just like he craved for the satyr's touch and taste.

"What's the matter? Ran out of nerve?"

Riki taunted him, his breath hot on Strygwyr's face. The air was filled with Riki's scent, the soft musk of fur and leather mixed with the strange, dangerous spice that ensnared Stryg's senses. Oh, how he wanted this damn assassin.

"You talk too much. I am surprised you can sneak up on anyone at all."

Riki curled his lips to give him a sharper grin, defiance welling up in his gaze. 

But Strygwyr didn't want to hear any more talk. He closed in, crushed his mouth to Riki's, hands tight on the satyr's horns. His claws tore at fabric as he bullied himself closer to Riki's body, pressing strong legs aside to claim what he sought.

Riki returned the fierce haste, kissing, biting, spreading his body to accommodate Stryg's impatient need. How fortunate it was that the Seeker himself wore so little, because he was already tearing at Rikimaru's clothes. It was doubtful that the man would have had the patience to undress himself in this wild fumble.

Strygwyr would not relinquish Riki's mouth and seized his horns once more. He was already painfully hard and there was no time to stop, ask or prepare. He needed to feel so badly. He held Riki still, stole his breath and entered him, pulling and holding the assassin with barely contained strength. Riki gave a muffled noise, of pain or pleasure, Stryg could not tell, and shuddered against the Seeker's pounding chest. His tail curled around Stryg's waist to caress him.

It was the Bloodseeker's turn to shudder when Riki's hand stroked over his leg, then gripped at his neck. 

Finally, they parted to breathe, staring at each other. Riki tugged Stryg's forehead to bump his.

"How long have you been waiting to fuck me, I wonder?" 

Another growl from the hound of the Twins and Stryg made a heavy thrust. Riki felt good beneath him, around him, bare and exposed and dagger-less.

One hand detached from the horns and stroked Riki's fur. Soft, deceptively soft. This creature was made of soft whispers and sharp edges. Stryg had never felt as elated as he did right now, having the assassin all to himself.

Another groan fell from his lips as he thrust harder, deeper, pulling Riki even closer.

"Easy there, dog."

The satyr hissed, but with his pupils blown wide, he made for an unconvincing personage. Stryg bit into his neck, now soaking up his scent as his lips, tongue and teeth worked to mark his nightly mate. Stryg knew the Twins would be displeased with him tomorrow. But Riki was worth it.

"Rikimaru..." he moaned into a bruised neck as his hips jerked and twisted. He was so close to a bliss he rarely experienced. Rikimaru twitched and clenched around him, tight, hot, defiant and yet welcoming. Welcoming him, Strygwyr! Not the Seeker, not the Twins. This was a much better reward than even the bloody sacrifices. 

Oh, what blasphemy!

Strygwyr bit once more into Riki's blood was rich, sweet and spicy. It was too much for Strygwyr, this blood. He came with a howl that might have woken some sleeping gods. He didn't care.

Not with Riki keening his pleasure beneath him, gripping his neck as he rode out Stryg's climax and his own.

"Well. That was fun. I should be going now..."  
Riki did not get the chance to sneak from the bed.

* * *  
He was done waiting. That horned (pun intended) idiot was still not back and the sun would rise soon.  
Gondar stalked through the streets and entered the little side-temple next to the pyramid. The Bloodseeker's doggy house.

"Riki?!" he hissed as he crept through the rooms.  
He found what he was dreading. His worst friend, dead at the hands of his morbid fascination. That fool! That-! Wait. 

Gondar came closer. 

Riki was not dead, but sleeping. And the Bloodseeker? Curled around the satyr as if he'd never held something so precious and fragile. 

Strygwyr was awake, wrapped around his favourite assassin and stroking Riki's face and neck. 

Gondar didn't know whether to laugh or curse upon seeing the look in Strygwyr's eyes. The Twins ought to worry, or maybe even panic now, because their hound gazed at Rikimaru with the devotion and love reserved only for gods.


End file.
